Torchy, Private Sec. Part 24

"Oh, yes," says he, forcin' a smile. "Her doll. She--she still has that, has she?"

"Uh-huh!" says I, watchin' him keen. "I'm keepin' close track of both."

That little touch did the business. He begins pacin' up and down his cell, wringin' his hands. About the fourth lap he stops.

"If I only could take her to Australia," says he, "and get her out of--of all this, I would be willing to--to----"

"That's enough," says I. "All I want is your O. K. on any terms I can make with Mrs. Murtha."

"She's a hard woman," says he. "And she doesn't come by her money straight."

"Nor lose it easy," says I. "She wants it back. Might talk business, though, if I could show her how----"

"Anything!" says Allston. "Anything to get me out!"

"Now you're usin' your bean," says I. "I'm off. Maybe you'll hear from me later."

Course I didn't know what could be done, but I 'phones Piddie at the office to tell 'em I won't be in before lunch, and then I boards an uptown subway express. Easy enough findin' Mrs. Connie Murtha too. She's just finished a ten o'clock breakfast. A big, well-built, das.h.i.+n' sort of party she is, with an enameled complexion and drugged hair. She's brisk and businesslike.

"If you've come to beg me to let up on that sneaking English butler,"

says she, "you needn't waste any more breath. He's going to do time for this job."

"But suppose he could be coaxed into tellin' where the loot was?" says I.

"He's had the third degree good and strong," says she. "The boys told me so. He won't squeal. Donahue says he ain't right in his head. Anyway, he goes up."

"He's leavin' a little girl," I puts in, "without anyone to look after her."

"Most crooks do," says she, sniffin'.

"But if you could get the wad back?" says I.

"All of it?" says she quick.

"Every bean," says I.

She leans forward, starin' at me hard and eager. "He'll tell, then?"

says she.

"Said he would," says I, "providin' him and the little girl could be s.h.i.+pped to Australia."

She chews that over a minute. "That's cheap enough," says she. "I could claim I'd remembered putting the money somewhere and forgotten. Young man, it's a bargain. I'll have my lawyer go down and----"

"Say," I breaks in, "why fat up a lawyer? Let's settle this between you and me."

"But how?" says she.

"Just a minute," says I, lookin' her full in the eyes. "I'm playin' you to give Allston a square deal, you know."

"You can bank on that," says she. "Connie Murtha's word was always as good as government bonds. And if you can wish back that twenty thousand, I'll put a quick crimp in this prosecution."

"What could be fairer than that?" says I. "I'll be back in an hour."

It was only forty-five minutes, in fact; but Mrs. Connie was watchin'

for me.

"Let's have a pair of scissors," says I, as I sheds my overcoat and produced from under one arm, where it had been b.u.t.toned up snug and tight, about the worst-lookin' doll you ever saw. I hadn't figured on Mrs. Murtha goin' huffy so sudden, either.

"You fresh young shrimp you!" she blazes out. "What's that?"

"This is Arabella," says I. "She's sufferin' from a bad case of undigested securities, and I got to amputate."

She stands by watchin' the operation suspicious and ready to lam me one on the ear, I expect. But on the way down I'd sounded Arabella's chest, and I was backin' my guess. When I found the coa.r.s.e st.i.tchin' done with heavy black thread I chuckles.

"More or less the worse for wear, Arabella, eh?" says I. "But how that youngster did hang onto her! Little Helma Allston, you know. And me offerin' to swap a brand-new two-dollar one that could open and shut its eyes! 'It's for Daddums,' I says at last, and she gives up. There! Now we're gettin' to it. No wonder Arabella was some plump!"

"Well, of all places!" gasps out Mrs. Murtha, and, believe me, it don't take her long to leave Arabella flat as a pancake. "But how did he manage to----"

"It was the night before," says I. "You didn't miss the roll until the next afternoon. And he ain't a reg'lar crook, you know. It was a case of bein' up against it,--sickness, and wantin' to get away somewhere with the kid. Honest, he don't strike me as such a bad lot: only a little limber in the backbone. Better count it."

"All there," she announces after runnin' through the bunch. "And maybe I'm not tickled to get it back! Catch me forgetting to lock that safe again! But I thought no one knew. Allston must have seen me moving the picture and guessed. Well, I'm not sore. Poor devil! I'll call up the District Attorney's office right away. He gets those tickets to Australia, too. Leave that to me."

Yep! Mrs. Connie wa'n't chuckin' any bluff. She went down herself and had the indictment ditched.

I didn't mean to stage any heart-throb piece, either; but it just happens that yesterday, when we pulls off the final act, Vee tells me that Helma is in the libr'y, playin' nurse and hairdresser to Aunty's chief pet, a big orange Persian that she calls Prince Hal. That's how Helma had won out with Aunty, you know, by makin' friends with the cat.

"You tell her," says Vee.

So I steps in quiet where the youngster is busy with the comb and brush.

"Someone special to see Miss Helma," says I.

"To see me?" says she, droppin' p.u.s.s.y and gazin' at the door. "Why, who can---- O-o-o-o-o! Daddums! Daddums!"

And as they rush to a fond clinch in one room something happens to me in the other. Uh-huh! I'm caught around the neck quick, and something soft and sweet hits me on the right cheek, and the next minute I'm bein'

pushed away just as sudden.

"No, no!" says Vee. "That's enough. You're a dear, all the same. Of course I knew he didn't take it; but how in the world did you ever make them let him go?"

"Cinch!" says I. "I saw through the sawdust, and they didn't."

I couldn't let on, though, about that inside tip I got from Arabella.

CHAPTER X

THEN ALONG CAME SUKEY